


Out of Sight, Out of Mind

by twitch



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bohemian Rhapsody Timeline, Except for the OMC, Gen, Mostly Factual, Non-Movie References, Self-Doubt, recording sessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-09 16:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17410592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/pseuds/twitch
Summary: John has been with Queen for three years. Recorded two records as Queen. But after joining the EMI label John has his doubts about just how much he is a part of the band.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The movie doesn't go into a lot of the details of how John joined the band, or what happened prior to recording the _Sheer Heart Attack_ album. We do see them performing KIller Queen on BBC, and have Now I'm Here, playing over the cities they toured in. So I decided to give a bit of perspective with John facts, with the help of an original character. Some creative liberties have been used, seeing as I'm trying to work with the movie timeline with actual facts.

It wasn’t very often that he was alone in a studio. He was accustomed to everyone chipping in every single coin they had in possession and coming into the studio prepared without a minute to waste. Every second cost money that they were scrapping together and there was no excuse to be one band member short, let alone three.

This was peaceful.

This was EMI.

From what he understood Freddie was talking with John Reid. How long that would take he didn’t know. Brian had a brunch date with his parents but he’d be coming to the studio afterwards. Roger – well, Roger could be anywhere with anyone, especially if they had long legs and a sweet smile.

Shaking his head with a knowing smirk John continued writing, unaware of the door being opened slowly and silently. 

“Pardon me?” The voice that spoke was loud enough to catch his attention but not enough to startle him. It was the equivalent to a shake to his shoulder, which given how distracted he had been, he looked up with a bit of a blush. “Have you seen Paul around?” 

“No, he might be upstairs with John, John Reid,” John replied, setting his pencil down.

“Oh.” He looked like he could’ve been the same age as Paul, but the smile the man who stood in the doorway wore came across as more sincere. “Oh, in a meeting, is he? Well I may just wait – wait.” Laughing for reasons that were clear to him, but which John couldn’t read, he strode into the room, extending his hand out to John. “You must be Deacon John. Nice to meet you.”

John stood up and was already shaking his hand before he greeted him wrongly. “No, my name is John Deacon.”

“But…” The man cocked his head, confused and chagrined. “I guess I read wrong, but I swear on the liner notes of your first album…”

It had been a while since he was reminded of that mistake that really wasn’t a mistake. Lips twisting, a brief grimace before trying to smile, John explained. “Someone decided for… creativity sake, that it would be more interesting to change up my name.”

“Without regard for your own preference, and real name?” The smile that faded from John’s face indicated well enough to stop, which he did, sheepish again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag up bad blood.”

“It’s not bad blood,” John insisted, while trying to think of a way to get rid of the stranger.

“This is what happens when I start talking. This is why I’m a technician and not a manager or personal assistant, less ways to say the wrong thing and the recording equipment rarely takes offence. And, that brings me to what I should’ve said in the first place.” Smile back in place, slightly fevered for babbling, he struck his hand out again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you – John Deacon. My name is Nick Milner.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shaking Nick’s hand again John hesitated. “I think Paul may be free in ten minutes. I know Freddie is meeting with John. Unless Paul is doing separate work upstairs.”

“Thanks mate.” Nick started back for the door, stopped and slunk back around, leading and lifting shoulder first. “I hate to be a bother-”

“You already have been.” Had it been Roger, Brian or Freddie, John wouldn’t have thought anything about the not low enough mumble. Even for Nick he wasn’t too ashamed, already fed up with him, but hearing Nick’s chuckle he knew it wasn’t the nicest remark to make.

“I deserve that, I’ve been hugely inappropriate, which I understand if you say no but-” Taking a deep breath, and preparing for the worst, Nick straightened up. “I am a technician, work with the musicians making their records here, and I’ve heard some… rumours? That you’d built your own amp. I would love to see it, if you could, but I understand if you say no, since I’ve been an utter jerk.”

Perking up, a hint of a smile returned to John’s face. “We’re going to be working within the hour, I don’t know how long we’ll be, but you can drop by after.”

“Thank you, I’ve really wanted to see what you’ve done with it, if it really was true.” Bolstered and grinning Nick bounced on his feet. He half expected him to keep bouncing on his way back to the door but somehow he managed a calm walk, even if he bumped into Roger when they both tried to use it at the same time. “Sorry – and thanks John!”

Roger glanced back to the corridor, blinking in confusion. “Who was that?”

“Nick, he’s a recording technician here,” John replied. He had been making his way back to the chair, his paper and pencil abandoned. There would be no use trying to resume his writing with Roger present. 

“He’s a weird one.” Making his way to his drum kit he began his drum check. 

“Aren’t we all?” 

Shaking his hair out of his face, Roger looked up with a grin. “Only you.”

Needing a distraction from less than pleasant thoughts John picked up his bass, keeping his sigh at bay by tuning his instrument. Hopefully the others would file in soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

They had been halfway through their session when he saw Nick enter the room opposite, in the recording room of their studio. He only had time to nod at him in greeting, not wanting to disrupt their flow. They recorded a couple of songs during their session, the takes and each instrument recorded with little bickering and only the regular quips they were accustomed to from each other.

He hadn’t realised how much he missed talking about the technical side of music, and the vitality of electronics behind the music, until his stomach growled, reminding him that he had skipped lunch in favour of working on the song that he hoped to put on the album. 

He didn’t see Nick until two days later. He was in the studio before the others again, ready for another afternoon session. He could hear the melody in his mind and he was making the notations on his paper for Brian’s guitar work, above the lyrics that he wrote so far. 

A knock came on the door, repeated louder with a familiar voice. “Am I interrupting?”

Responding to the voice rather than the knock John looked up, lead still pressed to paper. “Not overly.” 

“I’ll take that as a sign to make this quick.” Nick crossed the room, a paper bag in his hand. Something fresh baked tickled at his nose, pulling him out his slouch. “The starving artist trend may be popular myth but I figured if you’ve been working at your song you may have missed lunch.”

“I have.” Knowing that the bag was for him John took it, finding a sandwich inside. “And I am hungry so this is perfect. How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about paying me,” Nick assured him, before stepping backwards. “I have to head to one of the other studio rooms anyways, this was just a quick stop for me. Talk to you later?”

“Of course, and thank you.” Taking half of the sandwich out and biting into it without preamble, he hurried to chew. Wherever Nick got the sandwich the turkey was delicious. “Where did you get this? This is perfect.”

“There’s a café a little down the street, I can show you the place tomorrow,” Nick offered to which he nodded, already having a second mouthful. “Meet you here and then head over?” 

“That works.” Removing the second half of his sandwich and setting it down on the bag in lieu of an actual plate he waggled his fingers once free, Nick waving to him properly. “Meet here at twelve?”

Twelve o’five the next day they sat themselves inside. The outdoors patio did look lovely but it wasn’t the best option considering the pouring rain. Sandwiches would be delivered to their table but they brought their own drinks over. 

“Do you find it easier to work on music in the studio?”

Taking a sip of his tea John set it back down on the saucer. “I find there are less distractions in the studio. And since I come in early, I get a fair amount of work done too.”

“I was never sure if you came by early, or if the others were always late.”

John chuckled under his breath. “Well, Freddie operates on his own schedule, but I am early.” 

“Oh.” Visibly relieved Nick relaxed, taking a long drink from his pop. “Good.”

“What had you thought?” John asked, moving his elbows back to make room for the waitress bringing their sandwiches.

“It’s unfounded now, but at first – well, I thought they were leaving you out of band business,” Nick explained, shrugging off his earlier concern. 

“Hardly. They just…” To be honest he wasn’t sure what specifically they did in the mornings before coming in. “They all have family in London, or have errands to do beforehand.”

“Have you ever asked for their help in writing songs?” Nick asked, setting his sandwich back down.

“This is my first song. I want to do it on my own, short of singing it. But I’d ask them if I needed help,” John explained.

“So they write all the songs, not you?” 

“I contribute, decide on what sounds good with the drums.” He took a bite, chewed slowly. “It’s a group effort.”

“Aside from the mornings, do you do anything with them? Before or after gigs?”

John hesitated briefly, thinking about their routines. “Normally after. It sometimes is busy – around gigs, and practises.”

“And in the mornings?”

“Freddie lives with his girlfriend,” he hurried to defend, not liking that he did rush to answer. “They do a lot of things together. And Brian is trying to continue with his university studies.”

“Do they all have girlfriends?” John nodded in response, mouth full. “What about you? Seeing anyone?”

He nearly reached for his tea but stopped, finding his cheeks warm enough already. “Ah… no.”

“Not looking? Or is Roger not sharing? Well, introducing maybe,” Nick laughed. John had to wonder how even a technician knew about the going ons in Roger’s love life. “I get it, musicians don’t have a set schedule. It would be hard to keep up a relationship.”

“Yeah.” Picking up his cup he took a long sip, letting his gaze drift away from Nick. The bell at the door of the café rang and by chance he looked over, spying Brian entering, only to glance in their direction.

“John,” Brian greeted, walking over to their table. He didn’t spare a glance to Nick, who didn’t look put off by it. “I was stopping by to pick up something to eat, do you know what’s good?”

“The turk… oh… maybe the cheese sandwich? They might have a vegetable soup,” John mentioned, stumbling with his words and blushing for it. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Brian asked. 

“Of course – I thought you were going to be late, meeting with a TA.” At least that’s what Brian had mentioned yesterday, or so he thought. 

“It was cancelled,” Brian commented though he did turn away rather quickly. “I’m going to check the menu board but I’ll be right back.”

A minute later and Brian left. John wanted to think it was because there was nothing he would eat but in the back of his mind doubts lingered and his appetite dwindled down to nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Five days ago he would’ve said he’d have his song written by the end of the week. The lyrics had easily come to him and he had an idea of what Brian would play along to it. The beat and pace of the song thanks to Roger.

Now he tapped the pencil on the paper, having added nothing to the paper. The last time he wrote anything down, a note or a word or something, had been two days ago. Silence pervaded where once music and Freddie’s voice existed. That wasn’t to say his mind was a complete blank. The things that occupied his mind were left unspoken, thoughts worrying him down that even made sleeping difficult.

Careful not to rub his eyes, to make them even more bleary or the shadows underneath more pronounced, John set the pencil down. 

He was about to stand up to collect his bass, hoping that strumming out anything would get the ideas flowing, but voices in the hallway stopped him. He had hoped that it was Nick but he recognised the voices.

Brian and Roger, loud enough for him to distinguish their voices but not what they were saying. Getting a little clearer, hearing them laugh about something, before fading as they moved further from the door.

Half out of his seat he dropped back down. 

Stood quickly when disappointment edged to bitterness that surged into determination.

It shouldn’t be hard to find Nick.

*

It wasn’t hard to break the habit of coming into the studio early when he first thought of it. Taking a page out of his bandmate’s books he began doing errands in the morning, certainly the most open time of the day when they would work late into the evening at the studio.

One day when Nick had a morning free from the Studio Nick suggested they do a breakfast at his favourite breakfast diner.

It all seemed innocuous, chatting over tea and coffee and an assortment of freshly made food, but it couldn’t last long. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that the commentary came from a disgruntled Roger. 

“What did I tell you about Nick? He’s a strange one. What do you even do together?”

John didn’t respond at the time though by the way his cheek twitched and the sideways glare he shot Roger Brian didn’t add his own opinion. Based on the quick glimpse John caught of him he had been about to say something but he bit it back as all three of them got their instruments ready.

The next day neither had said anything to him but John saw Nick strolling in his direction. John was going to the studio and by the sounds of it, prior to when he turned into the corridor, Nick was being ousted by Roger who was already in their room.

John glanced from the open door back to Nick, both of them confused. Nick shrugged it off, to which John hoped that he wouldn’t be hearing more from Roger.

John didn’t purposely evade the looks that Roger was giving him when he thought he wasn’t aware of them. He could feel the glare, switching between the back of his head, neck or shoulders. 

It was Brian who caught him before they left at the end of the day. “I’m trying to not take Roger at his word but… has Nick ever done anything to offend you?” 

John bit back the urge to huff but rolled his eyes. “Never,” he assured him, firmly and loudly, before quickly departing.

His bandmates, on the other hand, were utterly annoying him. Giving Brian and Roger the cold shoulder had been working for the time being but facing Freddie the next morning was something else.

“Is everything alright?” There was no inquiry into the nature of Nick’s behaviour. “The tension in the room yesterday was obscene. I am not placing blame on anyone, but if I need to tell Roger and Brian to back off on your behalf, I will. Roger is a stubborn arse and if he manages to persuade Brian to his cause, whatever it is – well, it gets bad.”

John actually smiled at that, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t need to talk to them. They have this idea that there’s something wrong with Nick, when there isn’t.”

And perhaps things would have gone smoothly. That afternoon things had gone off without any hitches. Roger was not giving him dirty looks or underhanded comments and Brian had been working on the guitar parts of his songs. There was no time for distractions. 

The next morning, walking into the studio with Freddie, raised voices were coming from their studio room. John braced himself for the argument, expecting it to have something to do with him or Nick, or both of them. Roger never held back from a fight regardless of who was in the right.

To his surprise, and Freddie’s, Brian and Roger were in the corridor, bemused as they watched the argument taking place. John first heard Paul’s voice, who was taking the more active role in the argument with Nick.

“What is going on?” Freddie asked once they were all standing in the doorway. 

“I’m not quite sure,” Brian admitted, keeping his voice low.

“But I’m on Paul’s side,” Roger interjected, grinning as Paul continued to rant.

“You are not a part of the crew working in this studio room, you have no reason to be spending so much time in here,” Paul argued, voice raising again. 

“I don’t, I don’t interrupt hard-working musicians.” Nick stood casually in the middle of the studio, no need to defend himself for what was common fact. “And the only reason I do stop by is because sometimes I’ve got plans with John before or after their studio time.”

“I have it on good account that you’ve been a thorn in their side, causing a riff between them-”

“The only person I have ever spent any time with is John. If anyone else has an opinion of me they have yet to say it.”

“I have told you to steer clear of John!” Roger cut in, pitching his voice to aid in the fight.

“On account of me being strange?” Nick reminded. The reason was odd, and weak, the statement making Freddie huff from behind John. John curled his hand into a fist at his side, rather than raising it to the back of Roger’s head.

“Roger has said that you have designs on John, taking up all his time!” Paul continued.

“His free time!”

“They are on a deadline to complete their album, and the riff you are causing is not doing any good for them in the studio.” Stepping closer Paul jabbed a finger into Nick’s chest. “I am warning you, back off before you cause any more trouble.”

“I hang out with him because everyone else is busy! This has nothing to do with causing trouble, or curtailing the musical output. When one is out with his girlfriend – or girlfriends – how would it feel to make – to make it easy. Comfortable, to spend long hours in the studio? You want to like the people you make music with, to be friends with everyone. Being the odd man out, being lonely, it’s not good for anyone.”

Roger shifted beside him. Behind the long layers of hair John swore he saw a nervous darting of his eyes, first to him and then away. John tried to not watch him any longer, afraid that the flush on his cheeks would be visible.

“You are the one making a bigger deal about nothing,” Nick continued, shaking his head. “And if you hadn’t stuck your nose into this-”

“This is a big deal.” Eyes flashing angrily Paul lashed out, not to hit but to grab Nick by the arm. “This could’ve easily blown up into a big fight that would’ve been avoided if you were not involved.”

“But you-” Nick protested, only to squawk when Paul charged for the door, dragging Nick with him to nearly knock into Roger. Freddie and Brian stepped back quickly, letting them through.

“I will have you written up on this and if I see you down here – or with John at any given time or place, I guarantee Reid will be worse than me,” Paul promised as he continued down the corridor.

“It’s probably better this way,” Roger commented lowly once the two men were out of sight, even though the low tone may have been guilt rather than the need to be quiet. “But… you know I wouldn’t forbid you to make friends, right? We weren’t excluding you.”

“Right,” John murmured, distracted, wondering what had prompted Paul to leave with haste. What Nick was trying to say before they left. 

Brian spoke from behind them. “That was strange.”

Freddie’s hand took him by the shoulder, squeezing gently. John looked back, catching Freddie’s concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” It was decidedly strange, not for behaviour from Nick that Roger thought was strange. How Paul decided he needed to intervene on behalf of the band, for him when he rarely spared him any attention.

Down the corridor, out of sight from the studio rooms, in the foyer at the main entrance, Nick jerked his arm free, rubbing at the bruising grip Paul left behind. “What the hell? You didn’t have to get that violent with me.”

“It had to look convincing,” Paul insisted quietly before looking back to the corridor. It was empty, like he expected it to be. “And you promised you were going to do what I told you to. So backtalking me was bad, especially if you slipped up on our deal. Now, just remember to never show your face again. And I promise, if you even think about John, let alone talk to him, I will have you out of a job.”

“You are out of your mind,” Nick muttered, but Paul raising his hand, stepping closer with that same vicious gleam in his eyes, Nick backed off. “I will! Not that I understand what you get out of this.”

Even if John deserved to know that this was all a setup for Paul. 

That he was a decent guy. And he honestly liked spending time with him, Paul’s ploys aside. His quiet but sharp sense of humour a pleasant change from the egos and personalities of too many frontmen and guitarists.

Paul nodded firmly, smirking.

Defending the band’s honour was the first step to getting into their good graces.

And befriending Freddie.


End file.
